


Dr. Awesome M.D.

by mythikology



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, F/F, F/M, Hospital Sex, M/M, Major Character Injury, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6774946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythikology/pseuds/mythikology
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel thought that keeping work and emotions separate was a good idea, until Dean shows him just what mixing the two creates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Awesome M.D.

**Author's Note:**

> Hellos, this is my first Destiel book and it was inspired from something in Grey's Anatomy about how surgeons have to be emotionless and bam! this plot was invented.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it and the chapters may take me up to about two or three weeks to write since I am a terrible procrastinator.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always awesome, so if any of you could them, that'd be really appreciated, especially constructive criticism, since I'm so new to this.

Being the only doctor in the family was hard. It was even harder when the only person he ever held in high esteem in his life, besides his little brother, was hooked up to a machine to make sure he even breathed at all. It was almost impossible for Dean to tell his family to that John had to be taken off of life support, what with his blood and body rejecting the heart that had recently been transplanted into his body.

It was tragic, that Dean had been the last one to seem him, but only to turn of the life support that kept his father, his _hero_ , alive.

Maybe that was why he left the small town of Lawrence, Kansas for New York City. To get away from everybody being expectant and knowing and hoping that he could help their families and friends, as if _he_ were some sort of god.

Dean didn't like that, so he did what he did best.

He ran.

First, he ran from Lawrence, and then he found himself from New York City where he enjoyed life for as long as he spent there, which was a whopping three months before finding out someone he had slept with actually had a sort of sexual disease that could have transmitted to him. That was a big shock to him because he had lived a promiscuous life style with no repercussions, so for it to come back to him so randomly was definitely a wake up call.

So, with a bottle of Jack Daniels, one full gallon of gas in his car's tank and an open road, he found himself far away from New York. Which was how he found himself in Samuel Campbell UCLA Medical Center, in Los Angeles.

It was a nice change; the only thing those people knew about him was his medical records and how well he performed with children and how steady his hands were in the OR because that's all that these people really cared about.

Dean smiled softly at the girl in front of him, her mother in a chair next to the bed the hospital supplied, “Hello, Claire, my name is Dr. Winchester and I'm here to talk about you and what you've come in for today,” the little girl smiled fondly before Dean turned to the mother, “Hello, Mrs. Novak, I know it may not be within my jurisdiction, but is there anything you'd like to mention about her emotional state or things that I shouldn't mention? Especially because I may be seein' more of you two in the future.”

The room smelled of bleach, lemons and that distinct scent of cleanser, the yellow floor clashing horribly with the lime green paint on the walls and Dean was definitely glad he had an almost five hour break between this and his next appointment. Turning his head to the right, past the divider-like computer where the mother was sitting, away from her daughter. Standing up, Dean leaned down and made sure his words were soft, eyes flickering towards the blond girl who was very intent on picking at her cuticles before focusing back in on her mother.

The woman nodded, a tight smile on her lips as she took a deep breath in, thin fingers tucking a piece of light red hair behind her ear, “Her father.. he left when she was younger and hasn't been back besides one random visit three years ago, so if you could avoid mentioning a Jimmy or anything father related, I'd appreciate that...”

“Of course, Mrs. Novak,” he answered solemnly, a pang of pain running through his body at the thought of someone in his family just leaving and never coming back. Letting that pain choose his next questions, Dean turned back to Claire and tapped his clipboard with his pen, leaning against the counter where the sink was, “So, Claire, you had been complaining the last few days about.. what, exactly?”

“Um, about this pain in my stomach, o-or the area where stomach is,” she bit her lip before picking her hand up, motioning to the right side of her abdomen, “right here, and it hurt so badly I couldn't move yesterday...”

“Alright,” Dean checked the box for abdominal pain before moving on and looking back up, letting the pen twirl between his fingertips. Walking back to the countertop, he puckered his lips before letting his eyes scan over the words easily, identifying the prognosis after a moment of silence, “I have a suspicion of what this may be, Claire, but I need you to tell me if you've felt any of the following, is that okay?” She nodded and Dean let his lips quirk up, “Have you experienced any nausea, vomiting, fever or chills? Also, if your appetite has disappeared or you're not hungry anymore, I'd like you tell me also.”

The blond looked around as her eyebrows scrunched together, thinking back on what she may or may not have felt or done, “Well, last week I vomited a lot, but my friends had the stomach bug so I assumed they gave it to me. And then, I did have a fever and chills, and I couldn't eat at all these past couple of days…"

"But you blamed it on the stomach bug," Dean concluded for her, and she nodded with a tight smile on her lips, sniffling quietly and glancing at her mother, who gave her a reassuring smile. Dean nodded before biting his lip and writing down her comments, looking back up and tucking the pen underneath the clip, “Thank you, Claire. Now, I suspect that you have appendicitis, but that can't be confirmed until you get an X-Ray. I can schedule one for you with our head of Diagnostic Imaging, if you'd like that precaution or, I can prescribe you some light pain medicine as I schedule you a surgery to undergo the appendectomy.”

The two women looked between each other as Claire bit her lip again, the mother ( Amelia ) turned back to Dean and sighed quietly, “We'd like to schedule an X-Ray at the earliest convenience so that the appendicitis won't get any worse, and to check if it's okay to operate on or not. If it's operable, we'd like to schedule a surgery, as soon as possible.”

“Alright, ma'am,” Dean pushed himself from the counter, rubbing softly at his lower back as he nodded and smiled warmly, “We are good here, and I'll make sure to give you a call when we have the X-Ray schedule, since our rooms are a little booked at the moment. I think the earliest we can get you in is about... the day after tomorrow. Now, Claire, to ensure that the appendix doesn't get any worse, there are a few things I'd like you to do, okay?” She nodded and Dean held up a hand, dropping a finger as he recalled what a person with an enflamed appendix should so, “Don't try to use a heating pad, and don't use painkillers, laxatives, or antacids, seeing as all of those could cause an appendix to burst.”

They nodded and Claire jumped off the table, grabbing her phone from the bed and tucking it into her back pocket. Then, they gathered up their coats and bags before leaving the sickeningly bright room, thanking Dean for his help. They left with a promise to come back and Dean felt a surge of pride because it has been a long time since he'd really helped anyone of this proportion. Usually it was just stomach bugs and flus and strep throat, never anything that need really needed surgery and hopefully Mr. Singer would allow him to perform on this.

Walking into the main juncture between Pediatrics and the pharmacy, Dean stopped at the desk where he leaned over the counter, catching one of the ladies sitting there's attention. She wheeled over to him, head tilting back ever so slightly so she could look at him as a questioning look briefly crossing her face. Flashing a charming smile, he allowed a soft amount of southern drawl to leave his lips, "Hey, could you be a darlin' and set up an appointment for Claire Novak with Tessa at the earliest possible time?"

When he got a nod in return before the woman turned to the computer, fingers typing away, he leaned back and let his smile grow wider, "Thank you, and please tell me after I come back from lunch, or just page me."

With that, Dean whistled softly before thinking of what he wanted to do, deciding quickly and walking away from the pediatrics wing, and instead finding himself in the ICU, where a patient of his was staying until being moved into regular room where they could be monitored. It had become a thing of muscle memory, walking to the room where one of his patients laid, because Dean visited him so often.

Eyes flickering along the room numbers, a soft smile settling on his lips as 302 came into view, turning to his right to stand in the doorway, hip pressing against the door as he crossed his arms across his chest, "Hey Ben, how are you feeling today?"

This always made him feel a little sad for his patients, seeing them hooked up to machines and blood or medicine being pumped into their body because they haven't been able to keep food down in the last seven days. He never really had the heart to be a heartless surgeon like everyone wanted him to be, like everyone said he should be and he kinda preferred it that way, with everyone casting sympathetic glances when a patient died rather than saying trying to console him or just walk past him passively because, Dean hates to admit it, he depends on the reassurance of other people to make him know he did a job well done.

"I'm good today," the boy answered solemnly, head nodding slightly before a big toothy grin split across his face, "I didn't feel any pain today and I think that the heart is working okay."

Lips quirking up into a gently smile, Dean nodded and took a deep breath, allowing the smell of bleach and cleaners fill his nostrils, "That's good to here, if you don't feel any pains or have any issues with your heart over the next few days, you'll be good to be moved into a regular room with a few other kids. You could use some other company other than me, right?"

"Dr. Winchester, you're perfectly fine company!" Ben said, sitting up and nodding his head feverishly, "I mean, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive and I'm really grateful for that! I mean, you looked so hard for this heart and when they'd finally found it, you were the one that performed the surgery; I actually owe you my life, sir."

"Aw, isn't that sweet? But, no, I don't deserve anything other than the occasional visit to make sure that heart is working steadily and that the blood isn't clotting," Dean teased, shaking his head with a smile on his lips before unlocking his ankles and uncrossing is arms, walking further into the rooms to make sure that all of his stats were good. Quickly checking the heart monitor, and the IV drip, Dean confirmed that everything was working well technologically.

"So, Ben, I'm going to be checking on your vitals now, can you take a deep breath for me?" Taking the stethoscope from around his neck as he spoke, he watched silently as Ben nodded and wiggled a little as he sat up, Dean sliding the cool metal underneath his shirt, "Alrighty, your heart sounds clear and free of any sort of issues. So, for today, you're perfectly fine."

Wrapping the stethoscope back around his neck, Dean cocked his head to the side with a slight lilt of his lips, "I have to go, now, but I'll make sure to catch up with you during my evening shift, when things die down a little. No pun intended."

Ben let a soft snort escape his lips before nodding, smiling sleepily at Dean before shifting himself over, and pushing out his pillow, fluffing it slightly. Now facing away from the green eyed doctor, the little boy's voice was muffled as he replied easily, "I'm gonna take a nap, okay? Goodbye, Dr. Winchester."

"Goodbye, Ben," he responded quietly, pushing himself away from the door and letting his hand grope the wall before feeling the light switch, applying a little amount of pressure to let the lights turn off. The light purple walls with the artwork of former residents dancing happily at him as he turned around, shaking his head and letting the smile creep onto his lips.

Walking away, Dean tried thinking about what to do with is day until the evening, because he really didn't have anything scheduled until three o clock in the afternoon, when he had an open heart surgery, and it was only about eleven in the morning, now. Humming to himself, he found himself in the cafeteria where he glanced around after buying a plain turkey and lettuce sandwich, raising an eyebrow as he spotted his red haired friend.

"Charlie, what brings you here? Don't you have tons of prescriptions to manage today?" Pulling out a chair and sitting down, he tilted his head to the side and shrugged off his white lab coat, leaving only a loose a pair of baby blue scrubs on his body. Then, he set his little black pager on the table, wiped at his nose, and he undid the saran wrap on his sandwich. He took a large bite of the turkey sandwich, wincing at the taste of mayonnaise before focusing his attention on Charlie.

"I get lunch breaks, too, I just spend them in the pharmacy," casting a nervous glance at the ladies that worked the cafeteria, her nose scrunched up disdainfully, "I'm pretty sure Annie hates me and makes sure to spit in whatever I order."

Letting a snort escape, Dean shook his head and raised an eyebrow, swallowing his food before speaking, "I doubt she cares that much about what you eat, as long as you eat."

"Yeah, yeah, but ever since I first interned here, she's had it out for me, I'm telling you," shaking her head, Charlie shrugged her shoulders as she took a bite of her - _homemade_ \- sandwich, "I was new and didn't know that she needed a special order of 20 pills, I just gave her ten.. Anyways, I gave most of my work to Kevin for the day so I could come down and enjoy a meal."

They chatted for a few more minutes, soon being joined by a few other people and Dean had to say he enjoyed the company. They had him laughing for the longest time, and it had been a while since he truly laughed so much. Though the setting wasn't that great ( really, you think the hospital would pay for better seats so they didn't have more patients with broken asses ) what with the light brown tiled floor and plain white walls, he found himself focusing more on his company rather than the food.

Soon, however, the tone of the conversation turned into one that could be found at a ninth graders' sleepover because despite all of these people being professionals, even they needed time to get their gossip out of their systems. It was moments like these that Dean regretted making friends with most of the women of their respective divisions.

"I heard that Mr. Adler is assigning a new patient today that'll have to be a two person surgery," Jess, a sweet woman from the pediatrics section of the hospital, started, setting her salad down and raising an eyebrow as she eyed the two surgeons currently at the table; Dean and Jo Harvelle, someone that Dean liked to refer to as his 'sister' because of how close they'd become, "and one of the people is supposed to be Dr. Knight."

"Really? I thought he did more solo work," Jo mumbled around a mouthful of burger, brown eyes blinking rapidly as she glanced around the group, "Didn't think he liked sharing the spotlight with anyone for a surgery well done."

"That's what I thought so I was a little curious when he'd asked me to write that on the board for tomorrow," Jess continued on, having enraptured everyone at the table's attention, and shrugged her shoulders, "Then, when I asked who else he wanted me to write on the board, 'cause that's what I'd assume if he said a 'double surgery,' he just shrugged and said 'I'll figure it out'."

"Seriously?" Pamela, the head of anesthetics, muttered, shaking her head and leaning back in her chair before glancing around the table, "That's kinda wrong, because I'd like to know who was operating on me before hand; when is the surgery, anyways?"

"Oh, that's another thing," wiping her mouth with a napkin, Jess accidentally knocked her foot against Dean's shin as she scooted her chair in, casting him an apologetic glance, to which he brushed off as he finished his sandwich, "it's not one surgery. Apparently, it's like this new testing thing and the surgeons are gonna have to work together for the next month with seven different patients testing out this new product Mr. Adler is sponsoring."

"Sounds shady," Dean grumbled, shaking his head and drawing attention to himself, having not spoken for about fifteen minutes, "I mean, Mr. Adler hardly does anything at this hospital and all of a sudden he's sponsoring some sort of product? How shady can one person be?"

"True, but it could be life saving," Charlie pointed out, sandwich in her hand as she used it to actually point accusingly at Dean and he covered his mouth, laughing into it as he shook his head. A goofy smile replacing the mock-rude look, Charlie opened her mouth to continue speaking before a loud and annoying beeping noise took over, making all of the on-call doctors groan before reaching for their pagers.

"Not it," Jess called, throwing her pager lightly on the table with a triumphant grin, the black pager with white tape wrapped around it and her name written in neat print on the tape, the black marker stark against blankness.

Dean groaned loudly wiping a hand across his face at the red flashing light of his on the table, eyeing it wearily and Jo smirked, picking it up and letting the silver marker where DW ( _"Ha, it's like that aardvark's little sister." "Dude, you still watch Arthur?" "Touché, jerk." "Bitch."_ ) was written. Her face fell as soon as her eyes read the words on the pager's display screen, shaking her head as she glanced up at him.

"What's the verdict, Jo?" he mumbled behind his hand, eyes closed as he let the cafeteria noise fill his ears, and then shut them so tightly that he started seeing colors flash behind his eyelids against the dark background, "Where am I needed?"

"…Room 417, Mr. Adler, and it says it's urgent," she mumbled softly and Dean groaned loudly, balling up the saran wrap before standing up suddenly, the chair scraping as he did and looked around at the group of girls, "If I don't make it out alive, tell my brother that he owes me twenty bucks and to put it in the casket with my body. I'll need the money in the after life for some strippers."

Leaving the table with a fit of laughing girls behind him, Dean made his way up flights of stairs to reach Room 417, trailing his fingers lightly against the white walls of the Hospital. Letting a sigh leave his lips, Dean could practically envision what his options were; either he was being fired, being sent to another hospital or he would have to work with Dr. Knight on the mystery product. 

He wasn't quite sure which he thought was worse.

"Dr. Winchester, Mr. Adler is expecting you, just go right in," Mr. Adler's secretary ( Dean didn't remember her name, maybe it was like… Beth or Betty.. ) told him, moving the mic piece from her mouth before moving it back, "No, Chuck, make the scene last a little longer because it really adds that extra piece of pain, trust me."

Pushing the foggy glass door open, Dean looked up and raised an eyebrow at the man in a white lab coat already sitting down in one of the leather chair, Mr. Adler sitting against his desk. A slow smile spreading across the man's lips, he crossed his arms as Dr. Knight turned around to glance at Dean with bright blue eyes growing curious and confused.

"Dean, Dean, Dean, finally. We have things to talk about, have a seat."


End file.
